Coercion and Compromise
by hatchlingpendragon
Summary: Wherein Fionna learns the nuances of politics, both personal and applicable, while her lovers learn the effects. She would make such a lovely little dictator.


Prince Gumball wasn't normally one to storm or express much anger beyond polite indignation. However, the manner in which he flung the door open and proceeded down the hallway couldn't be put as 'disgruntled' so much as 'furious beyond all sweet reckoning'.

Before the door to the hall could fully close, two figures slipped out, only one of them on the ground.

Marshall Lee floated near the ceiling, arms crossed behind his head and eyes closed, a couple of annoyed lines making their furrows in his forehead. Fionna carefully shut the door in a more decent way than Gumball's, which would have resulted in a slam, and they really couldn't afford any more 'slam' right now.  
"We'll be back, don't worry." she told the people inside, before turning to the hallway.

"GB..." she started, but the prince was already out of sight. She grumbled, and looked up at Marshall, who still showed no signs other than irritated apathy. She glared at the vampire, "Did you have to say that stuff?"

"Gummy Bear was being a total pushover," he said, clicking his teeth, "And they were being a bunch of stuck-up pains in the butt. It's obvious what needed saying, I just finally said it." "He _needs _their cooperation!" Fionna protested, "And you do too! You _both _have to go back in there and play _nice!"_

_"Not_ until _that _guy shows some spinal cord," he growled, finally looking down at her, his harsh expression easing up a bit as he did, "I can speak for the Nightosphere, Fio, but he's the one representing the Candy Kingdom. He needs to _show_ them that it's got more bite to it than cavities. I can't do that for him."

"Didn't stop you from trying." Fionna mumbled, crossing her arms.

He frowned, and drifted down to her level, bending to look up at her when she still looked down.

"C-c'mon, you can't tell me I'm wrong, Fi," he protested, "He was letting them talk and talk and _talk_ with that stupid smile of his, you were gonna blow too!"

She flushed slightly at how close he was, but fiddled with her hair, "You guys keep telling me it's 'politics', that it's something I don't understand. You guys are right," she told him, "And I'm not gonna pretend to understand it. I'm better at the beating up stuff, anyway. But _that_ wasn't politics, Marshall. That was just asking for beating up. I'm not saying I like it that he let them talk the way they did, but I don't think you were much better either."

When Marshall frowned at her she stared, and then she huffed, "Just try to talk to him, okay?" she ran a hand briefly through his hair, gently petting, "You guys need to get this meeting over with, or at least make it so that no more people are gonna be all ticked off enough that they won't talk later." She backed off, going the other way than their friend had, "I'm gonna go do something else, I don't think my being there's helped all that much."

"Fionna..." Marshall began, but she held up a finger, "I'm honest, I don't want you guys to have to talk over my head or have to answer my questions through the rest of this thing. You can do that junk later." she grinned, but then looked sternly, "Talk to the dude, and get both your butts back into that meeting."

". . . Blah, blah, _fine_. Say hi to the fur-ball for me."

"Yeah!"

He watched her turn the corner, absently admiring the view, and thought about the mess before he rolled his eyes, "Whatever."

Time to go Gumball Hunting.

* * *

When he finally found the guy he was leaning against a statue of some ancestor, focusing a red-hot gaze at the opposite wall. Before Marshall could say anything the young royal spoke out, "_That _was not very courteous."

"Oh please, you were thinking it too." the vampire snorted.

"True, but to admit such thoughts in that situation would be almost tantamount to declaring _war. _And what do you know? It. _Was."_

"Don't look at me like I'm the problem here!" the King snarled, "_You're _the one who was letting himself be a freaking doormat!"

"That is called _tolerance _and _tact_, you_ Dummkopf_, and if you had held that tongue I would've made a comeback!"

"Really? Really, GB? I'd like to see you prove that and do it _without _that stupid smile!"

"Thanks to you I've probably lost the _chance_ to!"

"Well excuse me, Mr. Spineless! You know what? Forget this, Fionna says we gotta go back to fix the thing!"

"Oh, fortunately _she _has sense. Such a pity about her optimism!"

"Don't talk to the dead about optimism! _You're_ supposed to be the 'everything's positively wonderful' guy!"

"After the stunt you pulled I'm finding that stereotype rather hard to take on. And don't talk to _me _about 'Spineless'!"

"What the stuff's that supposed to mean?!"

"You heard me, oh, migraine of mine! All you were doing, all you've _been _doing since we've taken on this endeavor was undermining _my _efforts with no thought to the consequences or to the point of _compromise_!"

Marshall laughed, "Ooh, look, I spoke badly to his bullies and now I'm not getting to play anymore! Look, GB, people like that trade insults all the time with a few kissy words and a smile, but not you, and not me. Sorry that I'm too real for that."

"I was _not _being _bullied_, Marshall." Gumball said quietly, "I can find a way to fix this, but if you don't see any need to _shut up,_ I will put your position as Observer for the rest of the negotiations, status notwithstanding."

Marshall Lee hissed, tongue flicking over his teeth, "_Bullied_, boy," he said, just as quietly.

"You were letting yourself be trash-talked,  
Dumbed down,  
And walked over  
By their stupid fancy words,  
Ponce-y rules,  
And pretty shady dust covers.  
It's too bad that they just can't hide their funny smell,  
It's too bad that I know their type so freaking well,  
I'm not gonna let them bully you, GB, 'cause you see,  
The only one who can do that?"

He leaned in close, leering.

"Well, that one is only _me."_

Gumball raised an eyebrow, not reacting like the vampire expected, ". . . I've taken your opinion into account. Change of plans. Since you've already spoken and ensured relations for the Nightosphere, I'm changing your Ambassador status to Observer." the prince stated simply.

He continued over Marshall's incredulous gaping, "You're not obligated to watch my back, whatever good that did, and frankly I don't need you to. I'm going to go reschedule so that it can hopefully be started again on the _right _foot. Let me know when you feel like actually _helping _me. Good day."

Marshall Lee stared at his friend's retreating back before he spat, _"Fine,_ you stupid stick of gum in the mud! Have fun with your kissy _tea-party!"_

He didn't get a reply, and was in fact ignored. That actually kind of hurt worse than the arguing.

He flew off after him to the meeting room, kicking a portrait off the wall on the way, "Stuck-up jerk..." he growled.

* * *

The negotiations had been a slight success, but the co-negotiators' relations? Not so much.

Fionna watched them, feeling a bit annoyed. They were all three of them in the same room now, but not in the same place.  
She was sitting cross-legged near the center of the room, preparing to work on her mojo. Gumball was working on paperwork at the coffee table (when wasn't he?) with a sort of viciousness, while Marshall was by the windows, alternating between idly playing his guitar or slicing up the houseplants with it.

She thought she could practically take the tension by the throat and choke it.

And thinking this thought told her that this place clearly wasn't good for her mojo.

"Um, Marshall?" she asked.

"Hm?"

"Cake said hi."

"Cool beans."

She frowned as he went on strumming, and turned to Gumball, "GB?"

"Yes, Fionna?"

"Cake was wondering if Monochro was available tonight."

Gumball smiled blandly, "Yes, he is. When you see her, tell her I appreciate her asking so _politely."_

There was a snort from the other end of the room, and Gumball turned once again to his work, looking dignified. Somehow he made sitting on a floor wearing pink reading glasses and pajamas while writing on a coffee table made of a giant cookie look dignified.

Fionna glanced between the two, and then shook her head and went into mojo mode, quietly breathing.

Normally she could do this no matter what the guys were doing. She'd been able to stay in mojo mode even when Marshall sang the stupidest, funniest, or most annoying lyrics he could come up with, she'd been able to stay in mojo mode through _hours _of Gumball's paperwork and science-y monologue.

Heck, she could usually do it even with their more _intentional _distractions.

Right now though, this was a whole new lump of mojo-messing junk. Gumball's pen scratched over the paper at random times while he 'hmm'ed and 'ah'ed and muttered to himself in words too quiet to make out. Marshall Lee sang under his breath, using his foot for random rhythms, the guitar twanging erratically, quietly, just enough to put the ears on edge.

And they were both slowly starting to compete on who could make the most noise as possible _without making too **much** noise.._.

_-scritch, scratch, scribble- -cough, cough-_

_-twang, twing- -scrape, slice, thunk- -hum, humming-_

_-sniff, page rustle, thoughtful pause- -random humming-_

Fionna's jaw began to clench.

_-little random tune, took on the humming- -pause, glare- -another random tune, erratic-_

_-draaawn ooout yaaawn- -rustle, rustle, scribble- -sip, clack- -erase, eraser, squeak, squeak, squeeeeak-_

_-made the tune out of pitch ON PURPOSE-_

Fionna's teeth gritted, her nails beginning to dig into her palms.  
_  
-foot tap, tap, thump- -nasal snort, ew- -rubbery scrape, gnawing on the guitar pick-_

_-tapping pen on the tabletop- -si-i-i-ip, clack- -pushing up glasses, cl-click-_

_-thump, thump, thud-_

Her eyes cracked open a bit. One eyelid twitched.

_-snort-_

_-cough, cough-_

_-gnaw, grunt-_

_-scratch, scrape, squeak-eek-eek-_

_-twing, ping, twang-_

_-both at once, YAAAAWN-_

"YOU BOTH ARE DRIVING ME _CRAZY!"_ she screamed, abruptly standing up.

Gumball, who'd been leaning back a bit on air, fell back all the way with a startled yelp.

Marshall fumbled with his guitar in the middle of a flip before it landed blade-first into the carpet with a _CHUNK_.

They stared at her as she stomped to the door, and she stopped.

She turned around and stomped back, glaring at them both from another wall.

"What the stuff is going on with you two and what needs to be done to fix it?" she asked stonily.

"He needs to apologize." they said, pointing at each other, and then it's a whole new glaring contest.

"Then apologize to each _other!"_ she said bluntly, "Make up and make out!"

Marshall chuckled, "When _he _makes it up to me, _I'll _make out with him." he leered.

Gumball rolled his eyes, "Charming." The prince shook his head, "I'm sorry, Fionna, but this is a matter of knowing who needs to concede to whom, and I'm sure you would agree that he's in the wrong here."

He paused when she suddenly looked down at the floor, and he blinked, "Don't you?"

Fionna shook her head, looked at his hurt puppy expression, and sighed, "I'm sorry, GB. The way I see it, you could've done something more, and Marshall, you could've done something better. That's just what I'm seeing."

She sighed when they both looked at each other and then looked away, "Guys, c'mon, we can't spend the night like this." she pleaded.

"We won't," Gumball said.

Before Fionna could look too hopeful or Marshall too triumphant he continued bluntly, "Because _he _isn't spending the night."

Fionna made a noise of protest, while Marshall stared, and then he shrugged, "Fine, it's not as if I was planning to."

"B-but we, I..." Fionna stammered, and then she paused.

Both boys looked at her, Gumball twiddling his pen, nervous, though his face didn't show it.

Her face cleared as she straightened.

"Then...then neither am I." she finally said, snapping at Marshall when he grinned, "And I'm not staying with _you _either."

She crossed her arms, glaring at them as they gaped at her, "This is all _stupid._ If you guys can't sleep together then I can't sleep with either of you. We promised we wouldn't make each other choose in a fight, so I'm not. You guys let me know when you get through this thing. _Together._"

She went to the door, as resolute as a frontline soldier, "I'm getting my junk and going back to Tree Fort!"

She slammed the door on them, and before they could move she poked her head in again, _"Freaking make up and make out, you dumbskulls!"_

The door slammed again, this time with finality.

Time stretched.

Marshall stared at Gumball.

Gumball stared at Marshall.

"She's really doing it."

"Sadly, yes."

"That chick sometimes takes things _way _too seriously." Marshall said, staring wistfully at the door.

"I'd agree with you, but that would mean that I'd be agreeing with you." Gumball replied, focusing on the door with an equal amount of regret.

". . . She's gonna lock her doors, isn't she?"

"Of that I have no doubt."

"The windows, too?"

"Think about it."

". . . Well, dang."

"Mmhm."

". . . How soon are ya gonna apologize?"

"Depends on when _you _make plans to."

"Pansy." Marshall grumbled, flying out the window.

"Brute." Gumball retorted, heart not really into it as he turned back to his work.

* * *

"Idiots." Fionna muttered unhappily, before telling Cake she was home.

Cake took one look at her and gave her a special magic cat stretchy power hug.

Fionna hugged back, sniffling.

She knew it'd be stupid to think they'd all never fight, had expected it to happen at some point.

Didn't take away the fact that the whole thing still sucked.

* * *

Fionna stared up at the ceiling in her nest-bed of furs, bruised, bored, and bummed.

"Day 8 of The Dumb Drama War," she intoned to the ceiling, "Targets show no signs of surrender. Contact was received to the Base by both Target Parties, both overt and covert, but almost never at the same time. If there was the chance that they'd contact at the same time, they'd retreat, or proceed into the Heavily Awkward, Stupid Stubbornness Phases interspersed with Mushy and Stupidly Sexy Coercions concerning Who Sleeps Over and/or Who Apologizes."

She let out a sigh, and sat up, "Chances of the Base's Victory: pretty freaking slim and eventual."

She could make and analyze a Plan. With big words. Gumball would be so proud about that. Marshall would laugh his head off.

Cake was on a date, so Fionna had the house to herself, with no adventures or missions to worry about.

It was quiet, boring, and dull. She was lonely, bored, cranky, and tired.

And why was she tired? Because she hadn't slept right for eight freaking days.

She rubbed her eyes, and rolled back into her bed, snuggling into the furs with a heavy sigh.

She wriggled, turning on her side, her other side, on top of the furs, under the furs, hugged herself, hugged a pillow.

Tried to suffocate herself into unconsciousness. Succeeded for all of about five seconds.

She gave up with a gasp, groaning.

This. Was. Stupid.

She sniffed again, rubbing at her nose.

It was stupid to expect to roll into a cool or warm body when there was nobody there, and it was stupid that she wanted there to be.

She laughed a bit to herself, stretching, tired, but unable to sleep. She was spoiled.

She missed her monstors. And they _still_ haven't told her what that word meant.

This bed was too small, too cold, too empty.

She glared at the ceiling, and growled.

She sat up, the bags under her eyes darkened on her face like war paint.

Enough was enough.

For the sake of sleep, sanity, snuggles, and Victory, she'd have to resort to Drastic Measures.

She paced, thinking. What would be Drastic enough to coerce the Targets?

She blew a stray strand of hair out of her face and then paused, blinking.

A quick rummage through her chest of useful junk got her a whetstone and the Drastic Measure. She giggled.

Her grin would have made Marshall fearfully proud_._

_This_ was a _great _idea.

* * *

Marshall Lee was hovering above the couch at his place, strumming. Eight days.

Really, for a dude over a thousand years old, eight days shouldn't have felt this long.  
But they did, and he wasn't sure if this was depressing or hilarious.

He sighed.

_"Bullied boy,  
Did you think I meant it  
When I said that  
You're mine to tease?  
Well I did,_  
_Because you a-a-are_  
_My_  
_Precious person that_  
_though I pretend I don't_  
_I really, really do_  
_Want to please._  
_Oh, silly girl,_  
_You know I'm not good with words_  
_And that I think it's fun_  
_When we play 'til it hurts,_  
_And,_  
_Boy,_  
_You know I can't look away_  
_When under fire you'll just smile_  
_A false one on that pretty face._  
_And when I antagonize_  
_You two_  
_I hope you realize_  
_I don't do the things I do_  
_To undermine_  
_How I feel about the both of you._  
_Heh.  
_-pick up the beat-  
_But I really do kinda hate it,_  
_Oh,_  
_When you fake it,_  
_Yeah,_  
_And smile that stupid smile just to __t__ake it,  
__Oh,  
__I want to break it,  
__Yeah,  
__And make you see that  
__The only one who should bully you two  
__At all  
__Is only  
__Me."_

He jerked out of the groove when someone knocked as his door. He sniffed at the air. The knock sounded gentle, and so was the smell. He grinned, invisibly floating out of one of the back windows, looping up and around to see the girl, and quietly chuckled, looking her over.

Yeah, eight days definitely felt _way _too long...

He strummed out a tune when she turned around to look at him, "Look who's here to see li'l ol' me!" he laughed. She smiled up at him, and, forgetting the badawesome dude image for a moment, he swooped down to hug her, sneaking a kiss to her neck. "Aw, missed ya, Fio!"

She laughed, hugging back, "Missed you too, Marshall."

They stayed there for a minute, just enjoying it.

He backed up, smirking, "So-o... How _much _did you miss me, huh?"

Fionna smiled again, but shook her head, "We need to talk."

"Meh. That sounds lame, how about we show first, tell later?" he asked, guiding her inside before she could protest.

"No, hey, _really_," she protested, swatting a hand away when it reached somewhere for other than a guiding hand, frowning when he grinned.

"Let me guess, you want me to go apologize to Bubba." he said, crossing his arms behind his head, drifting around her.

"I'm giving up on anyone apologizing to anyone, at least for now." she said, and rubbed her head, "I've had trouble sleeping."

"I could help with that." he told her, leaning in towards her face, and getting a face-full of hand.

She gave him a look, and he shut up after gnawing briefly on her hand. She pulled away, grossed out, and he licked his lips, laughing at her.

_Waaay _too long...

She wiped her hand off on her shirt, crossing her arms, "I've had trouble sleeping, and I just..." she sighed, clearly unhappy, "I'm just tired of _grudging,_ Marshall, I'm sorry that you guys are in a fight, but I just want us all together again, if only at night."

The vampire paused, and looked over his girl. Doing what she did meant she couldn't be as clean as she wanted to, but she tried. Here though, she was looking a little tired, a little haggard, and had felt kind of cold when he'd touched her. He noticed the bags under her eyes, and his mood dampened a bit.

Marshall grumbled, "I could help enough with that by myself. Prince-y boy can join in when he lightens up."

Fionna looked at him, giving that disgustingly sweet little pouty face, "Please?"

He shook his head, smiling at her a bit more easily, "Come on, Fionna, I missed ya. Let's talk about this after, well, y'know..."

"That's not what I want." she told him, backing up a bit, and reaching for something from her knapsack.

"It could be _some_ of what you want..." he replied, grinning suggestively, "Fio, come on, we—_woah-ho-HO-no!"_

He backed off quickly, the dim light glinting over the edges of a pair of scissors that gave a silky _snap _in his direction.

"Uh, Fionna? F-Fionna, c'mon, that's not funny. Fionna?" he laughed nervously, backing out the door, hands protectively clutching his scalp.

She calmly followed him, an easy smile on her face, the cursed things arching hungrily from her dainty little hand.

Were those blades _sharpened?!_

"_Fionna!_ Seriously, that's not funny! Cut it out! . . . Forget I said that, just-just quit it!"

He flew up quickly, and grinned down at her, the tension quickly easing, "Ha! Out of reach! What're ya gonna do now?"

She looked up at him, and seemed to slump. She shook her head, and reached for her hat.

He stared, his mouth suddenly dry and watering at the same time as those sweet sunny strands spilled down her back.

"_Yea-ah_, that's nice, Fifi." he grinned, feeling a bit reassured.

"That's great... If you'll just put those scissors away then—wait. W-wait, wait, what are you doing?"

The scissors were still open.

He watched, horror slowly but surely dawning as she took a fistful of her own locks and held it up, looking at him steadily.

His usually fluid tongue felt like a lump in his mouth as she slowly brought the blades to her _own_—_!_

He lurched at her, face twisted and sharpened into a growling, feral scream, which turned to a very human grunt when the scissors pointed at him, and he slowly put his hands up, backing away, just now noticing the words 'Desperate' and 'Measure' engraved on the scissor blades.

"Fionna, you _better_ be kidding..." he growled warningly.

"Nope." she chirped, the scissors dangerously close to snapping shut on a length of her hair, an eerie little smile on that face.

"You're going to go to bed with me, Marshall." she told him.

She was using those words he had so wanted and now hated to hear, in that sweet little girl voice she never lost, _smiling _at him while she practically _waved _those scissors around her precious little scalp and as he watched her fingers _twitched...!  
_  
_"YA-GHI-GHI-HA! HA-GHI! No! F-fine, fine, **fine**!" _he protested, raising his hands in surrender.

"Fine, you win, I'll go... Just-just put the scissors down..."

She smiled at him, began lowering the demonic blades, but when he lurched forward they snapped up again, and he backed off with a hiss.

He stayed back, glaring at her wearily.

She waited, and then smiled, "Good little boy." she sang, and he snorted.

"Bad little girl," he drawled back, in that voice that made her shiver. Yeah, way too long. "You've talked with Gummy Bear, haven't ya?"

"Nope, but I'm going to." she told him, carefully stuffing her hair back into that cute bunny hat.

"Bites to be him." he grumbled, pride mixing unpleasantly with defeat in his guts. Evil.

Well, at least he'd have a bro to share his misery, and pretty soon his bed.

He lightened up a bit, because hey, at least he technically wasn't doing this of his own free will.

Then he darkened again as he realized this was probably what Fionna _wanted _him to think. _Expected _him to think.

_Evil._

He grinned.

_He was in **love** with this chick!_

* * *

Gumball was checking over some recipes, his office dimly lit in preparation to retire for the night. To sleep alone again.

He sighed. He hadn't really thought that the absence of his bed-mates would affect him so much. He really didn't look forward to sleeping tonight, as restless as it had been lately. His bed was the largest of the three's, so it was natural that they slept there the most. But now that they weren't there, he quickly gained a new appreciation for the space and size of it. It was too large. Too open. Too empty.

He chewed absently on the end of his pen, a habit he'd only indulged when stressed.

He _missed _them, and the loneliness was starting to wear on him, at least emotionally.

His work hadn't suffered, he carried out his duties as usual, but he'd never realized before how much he invested himself into things outside of matters of the crown. His cooking...his experiments...his parties...his lovers... He sighed again.

It wasn't a good hour to indulge in the vice of Sol Soda. So, he simply sat back and let his mind wander.

Throwing an apple at Marshall Lee to shut him up. Trying and failing to entertain Fionna with stories of his goodwill ventures, but her listening to him anyway. Finding new red things to feed him, finding new places for her to explore. Discussing politics, games, and guy-things with the Vampire King. Plotting tactics, strategies, and pranks with the hero. Sharing a pot of tea in the evenings or mornings, surprising them with an experimental breakfast that turned out how he'd planned. Cleaning up after an experiment that had _not_ turned out as planned, either having blown up or having to be defeated by her. Quiet evenings. Ending up waking up on her, or him, or simply in-between them both, warm and at ease, having spent the night only _sleeping_...

This sigh was even more drawn out and heartfelt.

The recipes spread across his desk met his face with a quiet thump.

. . . There was no way he'd get a good rest tonight.

He glanced at the cabinet under his desk. It wasn't a good idea, but...

Maybe for the sake of a decent night's sleep...

The door gave a click and gently pushed in. He sat up quickly to greet the guest.

He saw a flash of blonde hair, his breath caught in his throat, and he might as well have drunk that Sol Soda.

"Fionna!"

His grin stretched painfully on his face, but he didn't care.

She waved at him, one arm tucked shyfully behind her back, "Hey." she said quietly, smiling.

He quickly straightened his desk, his clothes, his hair, swallowing, "H-hello, Fionna, so good to see you, it's...!"

He looked at the clock, then at the window, "It's...oh, my, it's quite late, are you alright?"

When he looked, he noticed she did look quite worn, but she was still smiling, "I'm okay." she told him, coming up to his desk, the open door forgotten behind her. She scuffed a foot, now looking a bit embarrassed while glancing at the carpet.

"I'm...I guess I'm just having trouble sleeping..." she mumbled, and he swallowed again.

He got up and got around to her, embracing her before he said anything.  
He felt light, and much more awake than he'd been earlier.

"Trouble sleeping?" he repeated, stepping back slightly.

She nodded, her cheerful face falling a bit, "I _missed _you." she told him.

Before he could say anything she continued, "_Both _of you."

That put a slight damper on the renunion, but he'd be lying if he said he hadn't missed them too.  
But right now she was _here_, _he_ was here, and he might get some rest _without_ the drink, _finally_...

Something must've shown on his face, because she gently put her hand on it, "Please, GB, hear me out."

He looked down at her, and sighed, smiling indulgently, "Alright, meine Liebe."

The smile felt a bit more forceful this time, "I suppose you want me to apologize to him about my restricting him?"

She scowled, patting his face a bit to take his attention, "I'm not expecting anything from anybody at this point, Gumball, I just want some freaking sleep! I really do _miss_ us." He nodded, letting his thumb brush across her cheek, under her eye, noting the darkness of the lower eyelid. She was probably as worn down as he was.

She went on, absently leaning into his touch, "My bed's too small, not warm enough, itchy, and I can't get comfortable in it! The pillows aren't big enough and too squishy, I want to hug something that'll hug back! I wanna know that when I move around at night I'll get moved back!"  
She looked sadly up at him, looking cute as always, but mainly looking weary, "I don't like going to bed alone, or waking up alone, the place is too quiet or loud and..." her head met his chest with a gentle thump, "I just want us to sleep together again. Just...just sleep, y'know...?" she peeked up at him, not saying any more.

Gumball took a breath, and let it out slowly, quickly feeling her forehead, her face. Flushed, but not feverish. She really was run down.

"I know..." he admitted, "Fionna..." he took another breath, and smiled, "It's late. I'm tired, you're tired. Why don't we just go to bed now, and in the morning we can talk to Marshall about—" "Already here, loud and clear, Bubba." that voice drawled.

He moved quickly away from her to face the window, where the Vampire King lounged.

Marshall smirked, giving a peace sign, "Evening, Your Majesty."

Ahh, hello, migraine. It's been a while.

Gumball took a fortifying breath, exhaling, "You followed her here, didn't you?"

"Actually," Marshall replied, "She _brought _me."

The prince glanced quickly back at the girl, who nodded, rubbing an eye, "I did."

"She did," the vampire repeated, grinning, though it looked tired too, "She has a hostage."

Gumball sighed, "Fionna, you..." he slumped, "Ahh, it's too late in the eve for this."

He gazed wistfully back at the girl, the evening had been so promising, before glaring at Marshall, "I suppose you'd like to spend the night?"

"I might." his friend replied idly, leaning back on the window frame, "What're my chances?"

"Depends on your behavior." he clipped out.

"Hmm, what if I decide I don't wanna behave?"

"_It's too late in the eve for_—"

"No fighting, you two, c'mon..."

Gumball turned to the girl, quickly regaining composure, barely catching the vampire's suddenly stricken expression, "Look, Fionna, I'm sorry, but he's clearly not—"

He paused, she was tugging at her cap.

"Not..."

Soft waves the color of honeyed milk spilled to the floor. The sight hit him in the gut, completely bypassing the brain.

Her hair was down.

"Not what?" she asked, sounding genuinely curious while fluffing the tresses nearer to her scalp. Gumball swallowed.

He forgot now.

She smiled at him, and he glanced behind her to see that Marshall was suddenly looming near her, looking tense.

"You can be patient," she told him sweetly, "And he can behave. What's so hard about that?"

What could be worrying the vampire? Gumball wondered, suddenly worrying himself.

"I'm-I'm serious, though, Fionna, he's—" he began again, but was abruptly shut up by her scowl, "Are ya gonna argue with me on this, Gumball? _Are ya gonna argue now?"_ She brought out the arm she'd held behind her back, and Gumball took a step back in the face of rather the most terrifying pair of scissors he'd ever seen.

She chuckled, fatigue now clear in her voice, as well as a hint of desperation.

"I'm here, you're here, _he's _here, and we're all freaking lonely and tired and junk! What's so difficult to get?!"

She was looking frustrated, her eyes were watering, _"I just want to sleep!"_

Then she blinked, glancing behind Gumball, "H-hey, where'd he go?"

She shrieked when Marshall's arms encircled her waist from behind, lifting her, "GB, get the scissors!" the vampire yelled, as the hero struggled. Gumball gaped at the scene. "Her hair!" Marshall hollered, _"She's gonna cut her freaking hair!"_

Gumball's tired, confused brain supplied that as being a Very Bad Thing.

Gumball darted forward, but she dropped the scissors before he could get to them.

Marshall floated up, kicking the blades away, holding an armful of struggling, crazy heroine.

"Victory!" she roared, and promptly elbowed Marshall in the gut, hard.

He coughed, dropping her, and she landed with animalistic grace, wildly darting around the two like some sort of blonde hellion.

She caught Gumball in the back, and at the same time wrenched Marshall's arm behind him, and began wrestling them both to the door that led to Gumball's adjoined bedroom, huffing and giggling.

Gumball was very, very confused and now very much reminded of their girlfriend's freakish strength.

"Fion—_arm, arm, arm!_ Gah, what the hack are you _doing?!"_

"Taking. The freaking. Prerogative." she growled, and threw them both into the bed, landing between them, and pinning them both to the mattress with her body, covering a surprising amount of surface area for such a short female.

_"Goodnight!"_ she shouted, muffled by the pillow she planted her face in, and was abruptly quiet and still.

The two guys lay there silently for a moment in a tangle of pink-themed coverlet, blonde hair, and Fionna.

A gentle rhythm confirmed that, indeed, she had fallen asleep. Any movement they made would be met with affectionately tighter hugging.

"So...when she said 'sleep'..." Marshall supplied thoughtfully to the air, slightly strained, "She really _meant _sleep..."

". . . Well, she could've given us time to change. . ."

"Oh, shut up, GB."

. . .

"She smells nice, doesn't she?"

"Mmhm."

Both men shifted as much as their beloved captor would allow, looking at each other over her sleeping form, and looking down at her.

"She is far too cute for our own good." the prince commented.

"Hack yeah."

". . . Look, we spend the nights together from now on, and neither of us mentions that we got manhandled by our girlfriend. Agreed?"

"Done and done."

They looked at each other, and Marshall smiled a bit, "Good to see ya, GB."

Gumball smiled back, "Goodnight, Marshall."

He stole a kiss before the vampire could, and wrapped an arm around Fionna, feeling Marshall do the same.

For now, they were all together, and rest was at the blink of an eye, and all was well.

They slept.

* * *

**The next morning.**

Fionna blinked, sleepily acknowledging the morning light through her eyelids.

She peeked them open, and saw something much better than the sun.

She kept as quiet and still as she could, a gentle flush flooding her face as she watched. Yeah, she missed this.

Marshall pulled away briefly to glance at her, still keeping a firm hand on the back of Gumball's skull, "Y'know, it makes me feel a bit weird sometimes, when you watch us with _that _look." he commented, and she grinned full on and Gumball looked at her too, both of them looking much more rested.

"I can't help liking watching you guys kiss." she pointed out, and Gumball laughed.

"You wouldn't let us go, meine Liebe, it's not like we could do much else!"

She covered her face, embarrassment returned when they got back to what they were doing, feeling them on either side of her.

She felt soft, rested, and _warm_, finally! Still...

"Can't believe I did all that." she commented through her hands, and heard Marshall snicker as his cool hand pulled hers away.

"Yeah, yeah, hero saves the day." he leaned in on her, and so did Gumball.

"You know," the vampire drawled, "Some audience participation _is _required..."

She giggled, leaning up to them, and fulfilled the requirement.

* * *

"So, can I say you guys made up now?"

"After a fashion, I suppose."

"Definitely made out. Now don't take it that we're all cool now, but let's _definitely _not hold out that long again."

"Agreed."

"Mmhmm..."

"We hid the scissors, Fifi."

"Oh."

"Relax, Fionna. Isn't this what you wanted?"

"I guess...so...hm—hey. Hey, hey, wait. I didn't let you guys go, right?"

"Right."

"So...so how did you get your clothes...?"

"Marshall found a trick, actually. Quite ingenious. He'll show you."

"Yeah, and you can be my assisstant, GB. Ready, Fio?"

"No, no, I'm fine. Wait. Guys, _wait, that tick—bwa-gah-ha!"_

Yeah, they definitely missed this.


End file.
